Hogan, Drive! Cheeseburger first!
by TraScully
Summary: What happened in the limo? Tony buys Pepper a Frosty.


Hogan, drive

Hogan, drive. Cheeseburger first.

By TraScully

Rated K+

Summary: What happened in the limo? Starts immediately after Tony and Pepper get in.

-

Pepper couldn't seem to wipe the faint smile off of her face, and she didn't want to look too deeply into the reason for it. It would be safer to believe she was merely glad to have her boss back, so that life could return to some semblance of normal.

Tony was in a remarkably jovial mood, considering he'd been held captive and tortured for 3 months in a cave. Probably, Pepper figured, he needed a way to let out all his pent-up energy from those months—and currently he was using sarcastic banter to do so. She refused to let her mind wander over other ways he could use up his energy—and with herself, no doubt—and realized he was saying something to her.

"No, really, Pepper…. did you miss me?" he asked with a seductive grin, cocking his head toward her. Her smile grew as she rolled her eyes.

"Well, I certainly was bored, what with no schedules to fill, or appointments to postpone, or experiments to clean up after, or bow ties to straighten, or women to chase out, or--"

He cut her off. "Okay, okay, duly noted: I am more trouble than I'm worth." He stared out the tinted window for a good while at the sun-drenched highway, the afternoon traffic, the clear blue sky.

Then he snapped his head toward her again, usual smirk back in place, as his reverie ended.

"So? How'd you deal with the overwhelming hole left in your heart by my absence? Cry every night? Get plastered? One-night stands? Sleep in my bed, inhaling my overwhelmingly masculine smell? Please tell me you didn't touch anything in the basement, Pepper, because if Jarvis says you messed with my crap I swear to God--"

She stopped his smartass monologue with her famous secretary-glare. She'd never admit to him that a few of his suggestions had actually happened—namely the crying and drinking exorbitant amounts of his vodka. Of course, she had replaced every last bottle and hopefully he would never learn just what she went through while he was gone.

He would also never learn that she _had_ slept in his bed—not every night, of course—but especially toward the end, when her hope had begun to dwindle. She would start the night either on the living room couch or in the guest bedroom, but after a few restless hours she would manage to find her way into his room, burying her tears in the soft navy blue pillowcases and wrapping herself in his car grease-aftershave-sweat-metal smell that was so distinctly Tony.

She also had Jarvis play back the messages on her Blackberry's answering machine that he had left. Some were months old, but for some reason or another she had saved the—they either contained questions she still had no answers to, like "Hey Pepper, can you get a call through to the Pope today? I want to hang out with him—you know, chill, get a pizza, whatnot. I got some questions for him about the whole celibacy thing. Mmm-kay? See ya."

Or this one, which she kept for another reason entirely: "Hey Pepper… you didn't look so good when you left, and I really hope that canned spaghetti didn't make you sick, but if it did—I mean, you don't have to come in tomorrow. I can maybe get by without you for a day. Yeah, so anyway… uh… I hope you feel better. Really. G'night, Pepper."

And Jarvis never questioned why she had him replay these messages throughout the whole house; he just complied with her request.

"Mr. Stark, of course I did none of those things. I think maybe you overestimate how much I missed you…" Just saying those words made Pepper fear that lightning would be reaching down to strike her at any second. Never had she told a bigger lie. Never in her life.

They pulled into the Burger King drive-thru, and Hogan turned back to look at them.

"Sir, what would you like?"

Tony looked over at Pepper. "You want anything?" he asked her.

She shook her head, "No thank you, Mr. Stark."

He gave her a lopsided grin, that endearing one she had missed so incredibly much.

"Well then, a cheeseburger and two medium Frostys, Hogan," Tony ordered. The driver paid with a Stark Industries credit card, then waited patiently for their food.

Pepper raised her eyebrows. "Tony, I said I didn't want anything."

He turned to her, looking indignant. "And what makes you think the second Frosty is for you, Miss Egocentric? For your information, both are for ME."

"Tony, if you wanted that much more, you would have just gotten a bigger size, and you know it." She tried to hide her small smile, but it tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Okay, if you MUST know… it's for Hogan."

"He's lactose-intolerant, just as he has been for the past 10 years he's worked for you." Now Pepper crossed her arms in front of her, challenging him.

Tony leaned forward in his seat with an accusatory glare. "Hogan, tell me this isn't true…"

"I'm afraid it is, sir." The driver shrugged his shoulders.

Tony dramatically sighed, falling back against his seat. "Okay. Fine. So I got you a damn Frosty. Maybe I'm trying to be a better man--" he paused, "—BOSS—by treating my amazing, witty, perfect, efficient, and wonderful assistant to a milkshake. Because maybe, just maybe, I missed her a little bit. Is there a problem with that?!"

She stared at him for a few silent moments before pouncing on him, her arms wrapping around his neck and her head resting on his right shoulder.

"Tony, thank you for coming back," she said softly and genuinely to his shoulder.

He slowly wrapped his still-frozen-with-shock arms around her waist and held onto her, breathing into her hair.

After a few comfortable moments, he softly murmured, "Pepper?"

"Mmm?" she mumbled, still relishing the smell of Tony—which was much better in person than merely the remnants on his pillowcases.

"You have to let go of me to get your Frosty…"


End file.
